Point of No Return
by shhjustcome
Summary: When Dean threatens to give himself up to Michael, it's up to Castiel to stop him… any means necessary.    Warnings/kinks: spoilers for 5x18, PWP, strangulation, dom!Cas, angst


"I rebelled, for you," Castiel's voice was deep, low, not much more than a whisper but the anger, the threat of violence was all to audible. "And this is how you repay me?" He was now only a few inches away from Dean, who found it difficult to focus on Cas' once so familiar face. Blood was trickling down into his eyes from a cut in his brow and his head was swimming. And Castiel's face was warped, almost like a caricature of the neutral, slightly awkward Cas he knew. Two millennia of anger were burning visibly behind Jimmy Novak's blue eyes. Dean remembered that angels were God's soldiers: he only now fully understood what that meant. Castiel shoved him against the wall, hard, pinning Dean between the wall and his own body. "You were going to surrender, to them?" he hissed, anger and disappointment rolling off every syllable. Dean could only whimper. He hurt all over, but more importantly, he knew that Cas was right. He couldn't protest because he had been about to give himself to Michael. He had been about to give up everything they had been fighting for the past year. Cas had every right to be angry.

He wanted Castiel to be angry.

He wanted him to hurt him, so he might feel something.

He vaguely recalled what Famine had said. He was empty inside. A big, black nothing. He wanted Michael to possess him so it might go away, the nagging blackness. He wanted Castiel to get angry, so he might fill the emptiness with pain. Because at least that was something. Anything was better than nothing, even if it meant that he was now close to fainting as Castiel was slowly strangling him, one hand wrapped around his throat, lifting him slightly so that his toes were barely touching the ground, the other against the wall besides Dean's head for balance. He was also still talking, low, threatening, but Dean couldn't hear what he was saying over the rush in his ears. "Cas, please..." he begged, but he was not sure whether he was begging him to stop, or begging for more. More pain, more punishment. His breath came in laboured gasps and his hands were clawing at Cas' trenchcoat, his shoulders, something to hold onto, to stop him from falling into the darkness completely. Castiel's body was pressed against his, burning unusually hot. His hand still around Dean's throat, Cas bent over, his mouth brushing against Dean's ear. "If you thought I'd let you betray me, us, even for a second," he whispered, "you were very much mistaken." His voice was hoarse, gravelly and had a distinctly erotic undertone to it. Despite his situation, Dean could just feel it shoot down his spine right to his abdomen, and he couldn't suppress a shiver. He became acutely aware of Castiel's lips, still hovering over his ear, just barely touching.

Cas' grip on his throat strengthened and Dean could see, or rather feel, blackness encroaching on the edges of his vision. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a throaty groan. Cas was talking to him again, completely ignoring Dean. "I'm a warrior, Dean, and you should show me some respect..." he pushed himself up against Dean even more, crushing Dean between the wall and the angel. The press of Cas' stomach against his groin sent sparks through his body which barely registered in Dean's oxygen deprived brain. Involuntarily his hips bucked, his cock twitching half hard. Castiel paused and his grip on Dean's throat loosened for just a second, clearly distracted by this unexpected turn of events. Then the atmosphere had changed dramatically and the pressure of Cas' hand was back on Dean's throat, even stronger than before. Dean was now actually struggling for breath, but Cas ignored him and lifted him up a little more and Dean momentarily lost all contact with the ground, his hands clawing in Cas' coat, anxious for something to hold on to. Just as he was about to go under completely, Castiel's hand was on his groin, pressing down hard, and the pulsing strain of his erection against his jeans brought him right back to the here and now.

Castiel's mouth was still at his ear, his breath hot against sensitive skin. "You _will_ respect me, Dean Winchester" he muttered, and he yanked Dean's belt from his jeans and let if fall to the ground. Another quick movement and Dean's jeans and pants were down round his ankles, his erection caught between his own stomach and Castiel's rumpled white shirt. He tried but failed to understand the situation, the Cas that was now slowly undoing his own zipper with one hand, the other still firmly around Dean's throat, seeming nothing more than a warped echo of the Cas he knew. Detachedly he observed that Cas' slacks were now also around his ankles. As if experiencing an out-of-body experience, he noticed Cas' erection pressed against his own thigh. Then he was pulled back violently once again as Castiel pressed his mouth against Dean's in an aggressive, filthy kiss. Before he could respond properly, Cas forced his lips apart with his tongue, taking immediate control of Dean's mouth. He relaxed his grip on Dean's throat minimally, just enough to allow Dean to kiss him back, while resolutely preventing Dean from ever taking control of the kiss. Dean tried to breathe through his nose but it was nearly impossible and he was gasping for air against Cas' mouth, but the angel refused to draw back long enough for Dean to breathe properly. It was the most indecent kiss Dean had ever shared with someone, all teeth and tongue, moaning and gasps for air, and Castiel never even for a second let Dean gain the upper hand. His hands were in the angel's hair, hopelessly searching for some kind of purchase. Cas still had one hand on Dean's throat, but the other was between them, stimulating both of them with long determined strokes. Dean was shaking, his hips bucking up, wanting to thrust into Cas' hands but the strength with which the angel had him pressed against the wall made it impossible. Castiel did not even grant him this little liberty, this little shred of influence on the situation.

Then Cas pulled back, letting go of Dean's mouth and Dean gasped audibly, the sudden intake of cold air hurting his lungs more than it satisfied him. Cas' face was only an inch from his, his eyes pupils blown and his mouth red from kissing and moist. He looked positively obscene and for a second Dean wished that this moment, this split second where Castiel was looking at him with pure, animal lust in his eyes could just last forever. But then the anger was back on Castiel's face, even though his eyes were still black with lust and his mouth was still red and moist from kissing; something in his face had hardened, lines that weren't there a second ago now made him look like the thousands of years old soldier he really was. "If you ever betray me again, Dean Winchester," he growled, "I shall take it upon myself to hunt you down and to inflict the appropriate punishment." His voice low and strained however the threat in it clear as day. Dean opened his mouth but Castiel did not give him the opportunity to respond, pressing his mouth against Dean's again. At the same time, Dean felt Cas' hand drop and disappear from his cock. For a brief moment he was confused but then an entirely new sensation flowed over him as Castiel, without a warning, forced his index finger up his hole, quickly followed by another, and started stretching and opening Dean up. It was new and it hurt like hell and it burned and Dean was quite sure that normally when people did this they first slicked up their fingers with generous amounts of lube, but at the same time the roughness, the sheer intimacy of it was extremely sensual. He wanted to push down on Cas' fingers, to make him go deeper but Castiel still had him pressed against the wall, preventing all but the most minimal involvement. The only thing he could do was continue kissing Cas while he was being prepared, and vaguely wonder where he'd learned this. Cas pulled out quite suddenly and Dean whimpered at the loss of pressure. But then Cas' hand was on his thigh, pulling up his leg and wrapping it around his slim hips. Without waiting for a response, Cas ground Dean's hips down on his erection, entering him all the way without pause. Dean could not suppress a cry, which was muffled by Cas kissing him again with renewed fervour. At the same time, Cas started thrusting, slowly at first, but quickly working up a punishing rhythm. It hurt, and Dean couldn't help but moan, half pain, half from pleasure, with every thrust. It must also hurt Castiel, for Dean was tight and he hadn't used any lube, but despite that Castiel kept fucking him, as meticulously as he did everything else, hitting Dean's prostate with nearly every thrust. With his own cock trapped between them and Cas still preventing him from doing anything other than being fucked and being kissed, all Dean could do was hold on to Cas as tightly as he could while he was coming utterly undone. It wasn't long before he could feel himself going over the edge. He came in a series of spasms, his vision going completely blank, spoiling both his and Cas' shirt. His cries were smothered by Castiel's kisses. Castiel, who kept fucking him through his orgasm and afterwards when he'd gone limp in the angel's arms. Castiel, who was giving him something he didn't even know he needed. Castiel who had, at least for the moment, managed to fill the void in his chest. He didn't realise he was crying until he felt Cas' tongue on his cheek, tracing the path of the tears and licking them up. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, and Dean let Cas kiss his eyelids while he was coming inside him.

Cas pulled out as soon as he'd emptied himself and started to fumble with his clothes. Dean noticed he tried really hard not to look at him, and he couldn't stand it. Not now. He grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer, taking hold of his chin with his other hand, forcing him to look up. He read shame and anger in the angel's eyes. "Dean..." he started, but Dean shut him before he could finish by kissing him hungrily. Cas struggled feebly but eventually gave in. It was a languid, drawn-out kiss and Dean, as far as he was capable of rational thought, promised himself that he would remember it for the rest of his life, however long or short it might turn out to be.

However, when they finally disentangled, Dean panting for breath, Cas opened his mouth again. "Don't, Cas. Don't say anything," Dean begged him. "Not right now."

Cas just stood there silently as Dean pulled his jeans up and dug in his pockets for a tissue he knew was there, somewhere, to clean the drying cum of their clothes. He felt tears pricking behind his eyes again. Fuck, he really was turning into a girl. But his whole body was hurting, he probably wouldn't be able to walk properly for a few days, he could already feel the throbbing bruises on his neck where Cas had strangled him and he just didn't want the rejection anymore. He did not want any more disappointments. He didn't want the shame that was so obvious in Cas' eyes.

"Dean..."Cas said, softly. The tone surprised him and he looked up. "I can't give you absolution, Dean." Cas looked him straight in the eyes. "I cannot give you what you need."

Dean sighed and stretched out his arm, thumbing Cas' jaw. "Cas, you idiot" he said. Cas tilted his head, not understanding. It was so typically Cas, Dean couldn't help but smile a little.

"Cas, right now, all I need is you to be in this with me."


End file.
